The Deer Hunter’s Wife
It starts with the dove all fatted and gray
She knows it soon will be opening day
The air is crisp with the scent of fall
He’s very excited to try his new grunt call
She never tries to fight it, for there is no use
At least this year she doesn’t have to learn how to cook up a moose
He has been waiting all year for this day to come
When he can pull the trigger on that long-barreled gun
The freezer is empty, she has run out of ground
She never thought she would make it through those last ten pounds
And again he returns to his old camo blind
He’s after that nine with a single drop tine
She takes off the silk and pulls out the flannel
Instead, he will be stalking some antlered animal
Why bother shaving? She has no desire
At this moment he is warmed by the deer camp fire
She knows that he loves her, but his heart is torn
He has been a deer hunter since the day he was born
This year seems colder than years before
How will she make it through three months more?
He checks all the pictures on the game camera card
At least she is thankful there are no pigs in her yard
She finds corn in the dryer and burrs in her jammies
Thank the Lord, so far, she’s found none in her panties
She has washed all his camo with Scent-Lok soap
As she hangs up the Realtree, she vows not to mope
While he lines up his sights on a big black hog
Her toes are warmed by a pile of dogs
She searches her cookbooks and pulls out the All-Clad
How in hell does one cook an aoudad?
The house will be clean, but for him she yearns
She leaves on the lights and awaits his return
Oh Lord, please let him have horns in that truck
But, just where will he put that son of a buck?
